


Ragnarok

by the_escapist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, First Time, M/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Relationship(s), Werewolves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2007-02-13
Updated: 2009-01-01
Packaged: 2017-10-13 07:15:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/134438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_escapist/pseuds/the_escapist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the months preceding Remus’ eighteenth birthday, old wounds are opened again when a past foe reappears in his life. Sirius, wanting to help, isn’t quite sure how to handle his troubled friend.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_"He who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster. And when you gaze long into an abyss the abyss also gazes into you."_

 __Friedrich Nietzsche

  


* * *

‘Where’s Remus?’

They must have asked each other that same question half a dozen times already. First, standing on the platform, preparing to board the Hogwarts Express for their seventh year; second, sitting in the compartment, waiting for the train to leave; and now, as they hurtled along at full speed, headed north.

The enquirer was Peter this time, and his confused expression was shared between James and Sirius both.

‘I mean, where could he possibly be? Why would he miss the train? That doesn’t make sense.’

‘Wait,’ said James, sitting forward abruptly, and Sirius perked up at his revelation-inspired tone. ‘When was the last full moon?’

Sirius deflated; James’ sudden apparent epiphany was nothing. ‘Nearly two weeks ago. We’d have heard by now if something happened,’ he said, and went back to staring out the window, unable to help the fact that he really was starting to get worried.

The journey seemed so much longer and infinitely more tiresome than it usually did. Normally, Sirius enjoyed the chance to catch up with his friends - at least for the first couple of hours, when his arse wasn’t so bloody numb. But he’d spent the whole summer holidays with James, and Peter … well, he was Peter, wasn’t he?

So, truth be told, he had been looking forward to seeing Remus.

They didn’t talk much, but when the witch with the tea trolley came by, James bought three of practically half of what was on offer and shared the sweets between them. Sirius was grateful for the distraction as they swapped wizard cards, laughing about the days when they actually used to collect them.

It was such a relief to finally pull into Hogsmeade station hours later, the sky already dark and studded with stars.

The three boys waited for the rush to clear before leaving their compartment and disembarking from the train, and while Hagrid spoke to the first years, they followed the main throng of students to the waiting carriages.

Sirius climbed after Peter into one which already seated a Ravenclaw girl and younger Slytherin boy, so alike in appearance they could only be siblings.

It wasn’t until he was settled that Sirius noticed James was yet to join them. The look on his face was one of shock, or perhaps repulsion, as he stood beside the carriage staring fixedly into space.

‘Getting in, are you?’ Sirius said, and James immediately came to and climbed in to take his seat. ‘What was that about?’

‘Nothing,’ James said with a quick shake of his head. ‘It’s just hard to believe this is our last year, is all.’

The carriages set off towards Hogwarts, the uneven road providing a rough ride. Sirius stared out the window into the night sky, his mind drifting back to Remus and the mystery of why he hadn’t been on the train. With his mind occupied, the journey passed quickly, and soon they were taking their seats in the Great Hall.

The first years were sorted, dinner had begun and Sirius was about to stab a slice of roast lamb with his fork when Remus approached and, after lifting his legs carefully over the wooden bench, took a seat next to James.

It took James all of twenty seconds to notice the new arrival, and by that time Remus was already sampling some of the interesting looking noodles Sirius had been eyeing off.

Immediately upon realising who was now sitting beside him, James whacked him squarely on the shoulder. ‘Where the hell have you _been_?’

Remus swallowed animatedly and pointed a finger at the table. ‘Here,’ he said, and as if that was elaboration enough, poured himself a glass of juice from one of the many jugs wet with condensation.

‘What, at Hogwarts?’ All three of them, James and Sirius and Peter, had stopped their eating as they waited for an explanation from Remus.

‘Oh yes, because I just love school that much,’ Remus said, and laughed to himself before swallowing a mouthful of the juice. He pulled a face. ‘Urgh, grapefruit.’

‘Honestly, you’ve been here?’

Remus nodded, setting his glass on the table. ‘For a week, but I’ll tell you about it when we get upstairs,’ he said, and went back to his dinner.

The other two seemed to accept this, though they exchanged curious looks, but Sirius wasn’t so easily satisfied.

‘What, you couldn’t even send an owl and let us know?’ he said crossly, too annoyed to care whether or not Remus even had an explanation.

A little taken-aback, Remus said, ‘I didn’t think it would be a problem.’

‘What were we supposed to think when you weren’t on the train?’

‘It hardly makes a difference now, Sirius,’ James said. Sirius glared at him.

‘I know that,’ he said, more snappish than he intended. ‘I’m just saying it would have been nice to have known, is all.’

‘Sorry,’ Remus muttered, but Sirius clicked his tongue and ignored it.

They didn’t much speak again until they were upstairs and in the privacy of their dormitory. The edgy mood Sirius had created was all but forgotten by the time James closed the door behind them.

‘So why’ve you been here all this time? What’s going on?’ he asked, and the four of them each settled on their own bed.

‘The short version is,’ Remus said, propping himself up on his pillow as he lay on his stomach, facing the room, ‘that on the last full moon there were wolves hanging around our neighbourhood.’

Peter gasped at this, James said 'bloody hell,’ and Sirius’ mouth fell open.

‘You don’t mean werewolves?!’ James said. ‘Or do you?’

‘Well, my mum thought so. Dumbledore agreed to let me come here early just in case, which answers your question, and no one has seen them since I left.’

‘Coincidence?’ Sirius said, but Remus only shrugged.

‘Why didn’t your parents call the Ministry or the Werewolf Registry, or something?’ Peter said. ‘I mean, they’d have people to come out and catch all sorts of things, wouldn’t they?’

It wasn’t hard for Sirius to guess the answer to that, and judging by his silence, there was no doubt James was thinking along the same lines.

‘Because _I’m_ a werewolf, Peter.’

‘So what?!’

Remus smiled solemnly. ‘They tend not to listen when they think you’re a monster.’

‘But you’re not!’

‘Unfortunately, not everyone agrees with you,’ said Remus. ‘Besides, a werewolf worried about other werewolves? They’d have laughed in my face if they weren’t so afraid I was going to maul them.’

He paused. ‘I suppose it doesn’t matter.’

‘No, it doesn’t,’ Sirius said loudly and earned himself three very startled, wide-eyed looks. ‘Fuck them. Those cunts can think what they want. Since when do we give a toss what they think, anyway?’

‘True enough,’ Remus said. ‘I just wish –’

‘Don’t bother.’ Sirius couldn’t help but roll his eyes at the way they gaped at him. ‘Come on, I am a Black, remember? You don’t come from a family like that and not learn a thing or two about narrow-minded people and why exactly they’ll never fucking change. It’s a waste of time even worrying about it.’

‘Alright, we can argue about it tomorrow,’ James said. ‘Just as long as you’re at Hogwarts, Remus, you’re fine, and I’m sorry the Ministry are a bunch of idiots, but I’m knackered. I have to get ready for bed.’

Despite all he’d said, as he settled down for sleep himself, Sirius couldn’t help but ponder the likelihood of Remus being stalked by werewolves and what that might mean if he was. He sighed; he could just imagine Remus lying awake wondering that very same thing.

* * *

As classes began and normal life at Hogwarts resumed, the scare became a thing of the past, nearly disregarded altogether. There was no news of the werewolves (if they had been werewolves at all), and Remus seemed in his usual good spirits.

Homework again became a major concern and the inspiration for many a headache, especially as the teachers were now so strict about its timely - not to mention accurate - completion. Of course, there was nary a problem for Sirius in this respect, as both he and James were more than capable of leaving it until the last minute and yet still managing enviable results.

However, talent and luck can only do so much. Eight weeks in to term, Professor McGonagall had dished them out an essay to complete - three whole feet worth of parchment on the finer points of human transfiguration and its dangers - of which Sirius failed to write even a single word. McGonagall had been adamant, after the rather dismal results from many of their classmates on the last homework assignment, that anyone performing below the standard expected of perfectly able seventh year students (as she reminded them they were), would live to regret it.

Frankly, Sirius didn’t want to know. He really had meant to get the work done, but after he and James had gotten the brilliant idea to charm as many small, and preferably non-lethal, items to stick to the common-room ceiling the night before, he had simply forgotten. They’d spent several good hours at it after everyone else had gone to bed, using scrunched up bits of parchment, lollies from Honeydukes, discarded quills, anything they could get their hands on, and managed to create the perfect magical trigger - first person down from the dormitories the next morning would unwittingly release the torrent upon themselves. They only wished they could be there to see the look on their poor victim’s face.

So it was that neither of them had been able to keep from cracking up when they passed through the wreckage on their way to breakfast the next morning, confused Gryffindors wandering about asking, ‘What’s all this?’

The afterglow of another prank well done hadn’t lasted long, though. Not for Sirius anyway, after Remus, who was eating his breakfast toast over the day’s _Prophet_ , asked him, ‘I trust you finished your essay?’

About two seconds of blank incomprehension, punctuated by the clang of cutlery on dishes and the loud chatter of students, and then it hit him. ‘ _Shit_! Shit, I haven’t even _started_!’

‘Oh, no,’ Peter said, covering his mouthful of food with a hand as he started laughing. ‘McGonagall’s going to go nuts.’

‘No, she won‘t,’ James amended, the corners of his lips curling into a smirk. ‘She’ll go all quiet and do that lemon-faced thing she does when someone’s in _real_ trouble.’ James pursed his lips in imitation, so tightly they went white, crossing his eyes for added effect.

‘Very funny,’ Sirius said darkly as James started laughing.

‘I thought so. Still, I wouldn’t want to be you.’

 _Great_ , Sirius thought, _just perfect_. Detention with McGonagall was enough to suck the joy out of life for months afterwards, and he should know. He didn’t bother trying to rush and get it done in time (that is, by copying James’). It was useless, considering Transfiguration was their first class.

‘What now?’ James said suddenly, and the graveness of his voice was such a change in tone that it brought Sirius back from thoughts of his own personal doom.

James and Peter were both staring at Remus, waiting for him to respond. Remus, however, seemed to be absorbed in whatever article he was reading. He looked decidedly pale and he didn’t seem to have heard the question at all.

‘Remus?’ When finally he got Remus’ attention, James looked pointedly at the newspaper. ‘I said what is it now? Has there been another Death Eater attack, or is You Know Who –’

‘Oh, no, nothing like that.’ Remus shut the paper and folded it in half.

‘Then what?’

Remus didn’t answer, instead getting to his feet and stuffing the paper into his rucksack. ‘We’d better go. It’s time for class.’

‘What?! We’ve still got ten minutes,’ Peter observed, but he, too, got to his feet when James and Sirius did.

They made to follow Remus out of the Great Hall, but, with a hand across Sirius’ chest, James slowed until he was out of sight and out of earshot.

Wondering what on earth he was up to, Sirius watched bemusedly as James cast a searching glance up and down the length of the Gryffindor table, and when nothing came of that, over to the Ravenclaw table. Here, James strode over to a young girl engrossed in the newspaper.

‘Can I borrow this? Thanks,’ he said all in one breath and snatched it from under her nose.

‘Hey, I was reading that!’

Sirius and Peter looked on from either side as James quickly turned each page, looking for anything that might have caused such a reaction in Remus.

‘Wait, go back,’ Sirius said suddenly. When James turned to the previous page, he pointed out what had caught his eye. ‘There at the bottom.’

 _Werewolves sighted near Hogsmeade_ , the three of them read, and looked at each other knowingly.


	2. Chapter 2

‘The vast majority of wizards and witches who attempt the transformation never manage to achieve it. Can anyone tell me why this might be?’

The class was silent.

Covering his mouth casually, James leaned towards Sirius. ‘Maybe if their teacher wasn’t so bloody boring. I think everyone’s asleep, and look, Snodgrass is even drooling.’

Sirius suppressed a smile as James let out a rather animated yawn.

‘Potter?’

James hurried to sit up straight. ‘Yes, Professor McGonagall?’

‘By all means, share you answers with the rest of the class.’

‘Um,’ James started lamely, and Sirius had trouble preventing his smile from turning into a snicker. ‘Uh … they - they kill themselves trying?’

‘That is one reason,’ she said and considered James a moment - lips pursed, Sirius was pleased to note - before adding, ‘Five points from Gryffindor.’

‘What?!’ several of their Gryffindor classmates complained.

‘Indeed, the Animagus transformation is a very dangerous one, but apart from the –’

There was a sudden knock on the door.

‘Come in.’

The door opened promptly and Dumbledore took half a step through. ‘My apologies, students. Minerva, if I may.’

‘Turn to page nine hundred and twenty-eight,’ McGonagall addressed the class at length, with obvious reluctance at having to leave them unattended, ‘and read through the section on those who were not so lucky in their attempts.’

She followed Dumbledore out into the hallway, but instead of doing as they were asked, the class broke out in conspiratorial whispers.

Lily Evans, who was seated directly in front of Sirius, did as she was told and read from her book, but her friend beside her twisted around and glared at James reprovingly.

Five measly points was hardly worth getting huffy over, and her snotty self-righteousness was nothing less than annoying. As she shook her head disdainfully and again faced the front of the class, Sirius stretched beneath the table and kicked her chair. She didn’t turn around again.

Swinging back on his own chair, he saw James hadn’t even paid attention to her, slumped down and staring at his quill. On James’ other side, Peter was, like a few other students, straining to see what was going on through the thin sliver of space made by the door left slightly ajar. Next to him, Remus - disappointingly enough - was reading, too.

Everyone pretended to have been reading all along when the door opened again and in stepped McGonagall and Dumbledore.

‘Mister Lupin,’ Dumbledore said, and Remus started. ‘If I may steal you away from your studies for a moment.’

Casting an unsure glance at McGonagall, who looked just as nervous as he did, but nodded regardless, Remus rose hesitantly from his seat and walked to the front of the classroom. Dumbledore ushered him out in a sweep of flowing scarlet robes, leaving James, Sirius and Peter’s curious frowns to fall on McGonagall and each other.

‘What do you suppose that’s about?’ James whispered once the class had resumed.

Sirius hesitated, watching as Professor McGonagall lost her train of thought and consulted her own notes, seeming distracted all the while. ‘Something to do with … well, you know.’

James raised his eyebrows. ‘That’s what I was thinking.’

‘What?’ Peter said from James’ other side. ‘What did you say? I can’t hear you.’

‘Shush!’ James turned back to the front, but sank in his chair, not at all listening to what was happening in the lesson.

But then, neither was Sirius.

The rest of Transfiguration went by in a haze of distraction, but it didn’t particularly matter. They already knew all there was to know about animagi.

They were halfway into Potions, their next lesson, when the door opened, creaking loud enough to get everyone’s attention. Sirius stopped adding ground Shrake spines to the cobalt blue mixture frothing in his cauldron, watching as Remus stepped into the room, closed the door quietly, and made his way over to Professor Slughorn.

Though he tried, Sirius couldn’t hear what was said between them; nor could he divine much from their body language, other than Remus explaining his absence and Slughorn giving some sort of instructions as he motioned to the recipe on the blackboard.

The first thing Remus said when he made his way over to them was, ‘What are we up to?’

On the verge of asking what it was Dumbledore had wanted, Sirius hesitated when Remus, pulling an odd face, leaned over to peer inside his cauldron.

‘Is it supposed to look like that?’

Sirius’ potion was now deep navy, and around the edges it had begun to harden, forming a crust.

Naturally, any sign of Sirius stuffing up instantly caught James and Peter’s attention. Soon they, too, were hovering over his cauldron.

‘You burnt it!’

‘You’re supposed to keep _stirring_ , Sirius,’ - as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

‘Yes, thank you,’ said Sirius irritably and extinguished the flames licking against the pewter with an impatient flick of his wand.

Remus smiled as he moved over to James’ cauldron, and at the same moment Slughorn gave an untimely reminder.

‘Remember, your potions must be stirred _continuously_. This is an advanced formula, and will ruin very quickly if you neglect it, so pay attention. Watch for the subtle changes and add your ingredients accordingly.’

Walking between the desks, he began checking the students’ progress. Sirius’ blood threatened to boil when he heard him say, ‘Excellent, Severus. Very impressive work.’

When he reached the desk at which Sirius sat, utterly defeated and completely surrendered to his blunder, he smiled with a hint of amusement. ‘Don’t feel too bad, Black. I daresay half the class has managed to destroy their potion in one way or another.’

He moved on and Sirius watched as he looked over James’ efforts, saying, ‘Good, good,’ before offering Peter a sympathetic smile and continuing down the row of desks.

Sirius sat there stewing, arms crossed, boring holes into the back of Snape’s head with his loathing, resentful glare, until —

‘Are you going to watch this?’

James and Remus were staring at him expectantly.

‘Show you how it’s done, shall we?’ James boasted, and Remus grinned, moving over to give Sirius some room beside him.

Watching was one thing, but paying attention was quite another. Sirius’ eyes followed every step - adding each ingredient, adjusting the heat - but he absorbed none of it. Leaning against the desk, all he could do was wonder if his and James’ speculations had proved true. The curiosity was burning. He couldn’t hold back asking any longer.

‘So, what did Dumbledore want to —’

‘Oh, nothing important.’ Light tone, blank expression, Remus didn’t even blink, and suddenly he was very determined to grind more Shrake spines for James' potion - no mortar and pestle had ever had such a workout in all its career at Hogwarts.

He could pretend he was unaffected, that it was nothing, but the look James and Sirius shared said it all. _We know better._

As far as Sirius was concerned, their suspicion was all but confirmed during Defence Against the Dark Arts.

The professor they had this year was perhaps their worst yet. He seemed uninterested in his students’ learning, and rarely was the class anything more than copying straight out of their textbook. It pissed Sirius off, as the subject had always been one of his favourites, and he was certain they were all slipping well behind where they should be, considering they’d be doing their N.E.W.Ts at the end of the school year.

So it was again as they all sat scrawling away, stifling yawns and fighting boredom. One thing it did, though, was give Sirius ample opportunity to keep an eye on Remus.

It was obvious, really, with the tense set to his shoulders and the way his eyes kept glazing over as he stared at his textbook, that his mind was somewhere else. There were lines of stress between his brows, and it was worry that made him chew his lip.

With all the energy of the barely waking, the four boys left after class, heading to the Great Hall for lunch.

As soon as they took their seats, the act was on again. If Sirius didn’t know better, Remus would have been perfectly convincing as he laughed and joked along with James and Peter. James was being needlessly flamboyant again, as he usually was when all eyes were on him, talking animatedly about some exaggerated Quidditch anecdote or other, though they’d heard them all.

Remus didn’t eat much, Sirius noticed.

By their last class, Sirius was dying to get away. Remus had left them to go to Arithmancy, and he, James and Peter had all headed outside for Care of Magical Creatures.

James had quietened down considerably. In fact, he was completely silent as they waited with their professor and a few other students.

Sirius was rather grateful for this, distracted as he was anyway. Grateful, that was, until their class started and he suddenly understood the reason for the dramatic change in James’ demeanour.

‘If there’s anyone who can see what we’ll be studying today, please step forward,’ the professor began. ‘I’ll need your help.’

James, to Sirius’ confusion, made his way over the front of the class, hands in his pockets, seeming quite serious. He and one other student talked briefly with the professor, everyone else watching until they were told to form two groups of roughly equal size.

Realisation dawned even before the professor spoke again, when he saw James take hold of something invisible, leading what seemed to be nothing at all towards their group.

‘Now, the care of Thestrals is usually left to those who can see them, so we won’t spend more than a single lesson on these rather rare and mysterious creatures …’

In the latter half of their sixth year, James had gone home for a week to be with his father and dying mother. Her condition had taken a sudden turn for the worse, and their fears had been realised when she died four days later. Sirius hadn’t forgotten this (he’d never forget the first time he’d seen James cry), but James never had told him he’d been with her when she died. Now though, it was all too plain to see.

For Sirius, James and Hufflepuff Sally Goode (as it turned out, a Muggle-born who’d been in a car accident that proved fatal for her older brother - their classmates lacking in tact enough to ask), the lesson was terrible. The Thestrals were fascinating enough in themselves, but they seemed only to remind those who could see them exactly why that was so.

Afterwards, they didn’t talk about it. Even Peter kept his silence.

It wasn’t that Sirius didn’t respect James’ loss (he’d been quite fond of Mrs Potter himself), but he knew from experience that providing a distraction was usually the fastest way to cheer him up. Sirius tried his damnedest, sitting in the common-room that afternoon, but James was content to sit and stare forlornly at the crackling flames in the fireplace. He wasn’t interested in anything Sirius had to offer.

‘Peter here seems to be chatting up your girl,’ Sirius said in a last-ditch attempt to spark some life in his friend.

This, at least, got James to have a look. Peter was sitting at the desks with Lily and two of her friends, looking rather earnest, if somewhat daunted. One of the girls looked extremely displeased with his being there - she appeared to be doing her homework - but the other two were chatting with each other and obliging Peter politely whenever he added something to their conversation.

James smiled half-heartedly. ‘He hasn’t got a chance.’

Sirius sighed loudly as James drifted back to his silent thinking. Picking at a particularly irritating hangnail, he tried to think of something else.

‘Chess?’

James shook his head.

‘Want to go find Remus, see what he’s up to?’

Sirius thought he had a winner when James actually seemed to be considering it. But then James sighed and said, ‘Not really.’

‘Well, I think I might,’ Sirius said and stood. ‘If you change your mind, you know how to find me.’

With that, Sirius left for the dormitory. There he found the Marauder’s Map right where he’d last seen it, tossed carelessly on James’ bed. Checking all the usual haunts, he found Remus quickly enough. He was in the library.


	3. Chapter 3

'You make me look bad. You know that, don’t you?' Sirius said, folding his arms and leaning against the bookshelf Remus was poring over.

Remus smiled but didn't look away from the books as he studied their spines. 'You make yourself look bad.'

'So why are we here?' Sirius said, eyeing off some of the titles.

‘Well,’ said Remus, removing a large book and flicking to the index. ‘I don’t know about you, but I’ve got work to do before tomorrow, and I want to get it over and done with as soon as possible.’

Sirius smiled at this. ‘When you were young, you ate the peas first, didn’t you?’

At first, Remus didn’t seem to have heard him, scanning the index as he was. But then, tutting, he frowned at Sirius. ‘What?’

‘Never mind.’

With a groan, Remus snapped the book shut and returned it to its place.

‘That bad, huh?’

‘Worse.’ Remus stood there frowning at the books awhile before trying another. ‘How was McGonagall? Is it endless months of servitude, then?’

It took Sirius a moment to figure out what Remus was referring to. ‘Oh, the essay, no. She didn‘t even ask for it after, um ... I think she must have forgotten.’

‘Half your luck!’

Remus was flicking through the pages of a considerably hefty tome and Sirius watched him thoughtfully in the ensuing silence. Turning his back on the books, he leaned his weight against the shelf, toying with the hangnail as he considered what he wanted to say. He figured he’d be brushed off again, but … to hell with it.

‘I’m going to ask again why Dumbledore wanted to see you,’ he said carefully. ‘Only this time, don’t lie.’

Remus’ eyes stilled on the page.

Non-reaction usually meant fast-thinking where Remus was concerned. Sirius left his words hanging there between them, confronting, if accusing, yet they both knew it was the truth.

Finally, Remus gently closed the book and slid it back between its neighbours.

‘Remus?’

‘I heard you.’

Pushing his hair out of his eyes, Remus turned and sank to the floor, sitting with his legs drawn up and his elbows across his knees. He sighed tiredly and at length said, ‘I think you can probably guess.’ He stared at his hands in a way that made him look nervous.

It felt peculiar to be standing over Remus, and so Sirius joined him on the floor, legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed. With a quick glance, he made sure their area of the library was deserted before speaking.

‘It’s about the werewolves, right?’

Remus forced a laugh, little more than a derisive huff.

‘We saw that report in the Prophet, the one about the sightings in Hogsmeade.’

‘I figured you must have,’ Remus said, nodding. Suddenly, he smiled. ‘Can’t keep anything from you nosy gits.’

‘You should know better than to try,’ Sirius said. ‘So what’s going on? What did Dumbledore say?’

‘He said …’ Remus trailed off, looking at Sirius solemnly for a brief moment. ‘He said he thinks Voldemort is gathering his forces, that it’s why they’re stalking me, that … I won’t be the only one.

‘So now I’m not allowed anywhere outside on my own,’ Remus continued. ‘I have to stay here for Christmas holidays, seeing as they know where I live, and I won’t be going to the shack for full moons. You three will have to find something else to do, I’m afraid.’

‘They’re not making you go to the Ministry, are they?’ Sirius said. ‘With those cages? They can’t —’

‘No, nothing like that. They’re going to set up one of the dungeons.’

‘Inside the castle? Sounds risky.’

‘We don’t have much choice. They’re getting a security troll in, though,’ Remus said, letting his head fall back to rest on the books behind him. He took a deep breath and sighed. ‘It’ll be alright.’

Sirius certainly hoped he was right, and as another week passed with no more news of the werewolves he dared to let himself believe it would be. He could hardly sleep the night of the next full moon, but Remus returned the following morning in one piece, no better or worse off than usual.

He could tell James was disappointed, wanting to spend the holiday together as it would be just him and his father for the first time, but Sirius opted to stay at Hogwarts with Remus over Christmas.

It was set to be a very quiet, subdued break, especially seeing as they were the only two Gryffindors staying behind. If Sirius was honest, though, he was glad for it. It was great having the common-room all to themselves, for starters. They could hog the best seats and sit fair in front of the fire without anyone to whinge at them for it.

Another thing was the privacy. Unexpectedly, the solitude came as a relief and, of course, there was only so much of first-years one could take before it posed a serious health hazard.

On the morning of Christmas Eve, after sleeping late and then paying a visit to the kitchens, Sirius joined Remus in the Great Hall where he had parchment spread over the table and was staring thoughtfully at his quill. Seeing Sirius approach, Remus began rolling the parchment into a loose scroll.

‘It’s a letter to my parents,’ he said by way of explanation as Sirius took a seat on the table and planted his feet firmly on the bench. He began gathering his things together in a neat pile.

‘Well, aren’t you going to finish?’

Remus shook his head. ‘I’ll do it later on.’

‘I suppose you’ve got loads of time to spare,’ Sirius said, resting his elbows on his knees and looking around the empty hall. ‘I never realised how dull this place could be.’

With a sigh, Remus raised his head and squinted at the cloudy mist hovering over the Great Hall’s enchanted ceiling. He was thoughtful for only a moment.

‘Do you want to come outside with me for a little while?’

Sirius glanced up at the ceiling; nothing short of a death wish could make him go out in that, he thought. The solemn look on Remus’ face made him bite his tongue on the emphatic “hell no” he’d planned to speak. Instead, he found himself saying, ‘I’ll just grab my cloak.’

‘I’ll come with you.’ Remus rose from his seat, picking up his things. ‘I want to take these back anyway.’

* * *

The cold that hit them when they opened the entrance hall doors and stepped out onto the snow-covered grounds was like walking into a wall of ice, their breath coming out in plumes of white steam. Sirius swore, pulling his scarf tight around his neck, and tucked his hands under his arms.

‘Here,’ Remus said, fishing his wand out of his pocket. With a muttered incantation, a small orange flame sprung to life and hovered before them as though tethered to the tip of Remus’ wand. Sirius might have died of sheer gratitude as he attempted to huddle around the warmth of it, but Remus kept him from getting too close.

‘Careful,’ he said. ‘It can still burn you.’ He laughed, but his smile faded quickly.

Sirius didn’t ask. He kept his eyes on the fog surrounding them, wondering where these werewolves might be right now, imagining them stalking ever closer to Hogwarts. But when he looked at Remus, walking with eyes downcast beside him, he remembered: right now, they wouldn’t be wolves at all. They’d be human. All this time he’d imagined they were some sort of ravaging beasts that were after Remus, and realising they were people just as capable of exercising their own will as he was made it all the more terrible. Dumbledore was always right, and he’d be right about them working for Voldemort, too, and so Sirius knew - these weren’t just werewolves that were after Remus, they were Death Eaters.

But what a bunch of Death Eaters - worse still, Voldemort himself - would want with a seventeen-year-old boy, werewolf or not, Sirius didn’t want to know.

‘I haven’t been completely honest with you,’ Remus said, interrupting Sirius’ thoughts.

‘What do you mean?’ Sirius said. They both stopped walking.

Remus frowned at the snow, crossing his arms and effectively ending the spell that kept their portable flame aloft. It went out before it reached the ground.

‘I can’t stop thinking about him.’ Remus squeezed his eyes shut. ‘Twelve years and I can still remember what he looked like as a wolf, but I’d never seen his face until Dumbledore had the Aurors show me his photograph.’

It seemed Remus was staring at memories when he opened his eyes. His glazed look went straight through Sirius.

‘His name is Fenrir Greyback.’

Sirius could barely believe what he was hearing. ‘You’re saying you know who bit you?’

Remus nodded.

‘And it’s him - he’s one of the ... ?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Why didn’t they throw him in Azkaban back then, when they had the chance?!’

‘Why would they?’ Remus looked genuinely confused.

‘Why the hell not?! He changed your whole fucking _life_! For Merlin’s sake, you wouldn’t have to go through any of it. You could have been —’ Instinct told Sirius not to say it, but Remus finished the sentence for him anyway.

‘Normal.’ Remus shook his head. ‘Every werewolf is a killer as far as the Ministry is concerned. In their eyes, you’re just as culpable as the one who infects you and every bit as guilty as those who’ve killed whole villages of people. They’d never allow a werewolf defence in their courts, Sirius, so when you’re bitten, you don’t go pointing the finger - you keep your damn mouth shut about it.’

‘That’s bollocks!’

‘That’s the way it is.’

Sirius couldn’t believe how anyone, let alone the Ministry, could think like that. ‘So this Fenrir Greyback can bite a five-year-old boy and go on his merry way, no harm done, because hey, the kid’s a werewolf now anyway?!’

Remus scowled into the distance.

'Don’t you even care?!'

'Of _course_ I care!' Remus exploded, turning on Sirius. ‘He bit me on purpose, and sometimes it makes me so, so … _angry_ I want to hunt the bastard down and show him just what I think of him, but I don’t, and you know why? Because it won’t change a thing. This _is_ my life now.

'There’s no point wishing things were different,' Remus added quietly, staring at the ground.

'Maybe so, but I do,' Sirius said, reaching out to place a hand on Remus' shoulder. 'I wish things were different.'

'It’s cold,' was Remus’ only response. He shrugged off Sirius’ hand and made his way back to the castle without another word.

* * *

Fenrir Greyback was a shadow cast over them, but they didn’t mention his name again throughout the rest of Christmas break, nor when the castle was once again filled with students. Not until early February, when Remus gladly told them there’d been no more sightings, not even by the Aurors, and that he could go next Hogsmeade weekend, was there even a vague reference to him. Sirius knew James and Peter hadn’t forgotten what had happened, but it annoyed him all the same that they hadn’t bothered to even do so much as ask.

For the first time in a long time, Remus’ smile was more than fleeting. He seemed really to be enjoying himself as they perused each of their favourite Hogsmeade shops in turn. Sirius supposed he should, seeing as how he’d been holed up in Hogwarts all this time. He was only disappointed he couldn’t feel more enthusiastic himself.

Lunch, as always, was spent in the Three Broomsticks, where they had their fill of butterbeer. Afterwards, they made their way to Honeydukes.

'You don’t have enough money for all of them,' James was saying to Peter, whose face instantly fell.

'Could you lend me some? I’ll pay you back.'

Sirius was certain sweets really weren’t so important as Peter would attest, but perhaps he was being more cynical than usual. He stood by the door, toying with a display of enormous lollipops - the rainbow of coloured hard-boiled candy discs were each at least as big as his hand. He had to wonder if anyone had ever actually managed to finish one. Still, he got a smile out of watching his friends’ eyes grow to the size of their stomachs as they looked around the shop.

‘Why don’t we just put them together and pay all at once? That’ll be easier. We can share the whole lot and you won’t have to owe me anything.’ James looked over his shoulder. ‘You too, Remus. You want more than that, though. Go get some and tell Sirius to bring his here, too.’

Remus let James take what he had and caught Sirius’ eye with raised eyebrows the moment he turned around.

‘You heard the man,’ Remus said as he came over. ‘What’ll it be?’

‘I don’t want anything. Oh,’ Sirius said, and picked out a bright pink lollipop. ‘Maybe just this.’

Remus took it and put it back, looking both amused and understandably worried. ‘Perhaps not,’ he said. ‘It doesn’t become you.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’

Remus nodded and looked at the wall of jars beside them, but before he could move away, Sirius caught him by the sleeve.

‘Hey,’ Sirius said quietly. ‘Can I talk to you for a second?’

‘Sure.’

Sirius pushed the door open, held it for Remus and then fell into step beside him as they headed away from Honeydukes and the main part of the village. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he watched his feet as they walked.

‘I’m glad you could come today,’ he said after a long silence. He didn’t look up.

‘Me, too.’

Sirius didn’t really know what to say after that, but Remus didn’t push him. They walked without speaking at all until they came into the shade of an old oak tree, its thick branches spreading out and hanging low. It stood before a small cottage, the last in its row, where a dog whined at them, standing on its hind legs and scratching at the gate. Beyond this they had nowhere to go other than back towards the centre of the village.

Here, Sirius turned to Remus, halting him with a hand on his shoulder. He shoved it straight back in his pocket.

‘Is something the matter?’

‘No,’ Sirius said. He couldn’t look Remus in the eyes and not completely forget what he was trying to say, and so he let the idle movement of the leaves distract him. ‘Yes. I mean — Remus ...’

He took a deep breath; this wasn’t going to work. Remus had always been so patient, and they could stand there for an hour while Sirius tortured himself senseless. He may have been a Gryffindor, but the words for what he was thinking scared him far too much to speak.

It was awkward. He still had his hands in his pockets, but he didn‘t take them out, knowing the only thing to do with them would be to touch. With one perfunctory lick of his lips, he closed his eyes and kissed Remus hesitantly. Somehow, he’d imagined it would be different to this, and he sure as hell would have thought himself above such a chaste, undignified display. Remus stood stock still, but Sirius was relieved that at least he hadn’t been pushed away. It was encouragement enough, and so he pulled back, eyes on Remus’ lips, and took both hands from his pockets, intending to pull Remus against him, to touch his face. He wanted to kiss Remus again, and this time he wanted Remus to kiss him back.

Without warning, the dog in the yard erupted into loud, savage barks, startling Sirius so much that he jumped. He looked up to gauge Remus’ reaction, but Remus was staring over Sirius’ shoulder, and there was something so strange in his eyes that Sirius was compelled to look, to see what it was that Remus was so entranced by.

There, not more than a few yards away from them, stood a tall figure cloaked in black robes, torn, faded and dirty. It sent a chill down Sirius’ spine that they’d been watched, but the figure stood calm and motionless, watching them still from beneath the low hood.

‘Let’s go,’ Sirius said quietly to Remus, taking him by the arm, but Remus recoiled, shrugging out of his grasp.

The figure laughed, and it was then that Sirius realised something was very, very wrong. It wasn’t until filthy hands tipped with ragged, uncut fingernails reached up to pull the hood back that Sirius realised just what that was. Beneath matted grey hair that seemed not to have been washed in a decade the man’s face was scarred, just as dirty as the rest of him. He smiled a crooked, yellow-toothed smile, and somehow Sirius just knew.

‘All grown up since I saw you last, Remus Lupin,’ Greyback said with a mocking rasp, his rough voice cutting through Sirius’ nerves. ‘What, don’t I get a hug?’

Sirius was horrified; he wanted to get out of there right away. Remus just stood there in shock, and it wasn’t until Sirius tugged on his arm and tried to pull him away that he was moved into action. Only, instead of going with Sirius, he snatched his arm away. Quicker than Sirius’ eyes could follow, he’d pulled out his wand.

With lightning-fast reflexes and nothing more than a flick of his wrist, Greyback tore the wand from Remus’ hand before it was even raised. It flew through the air and clattered uselessly on the ground behind him.

Remus stood his ground defiantly, and Sirius fought back his fear enough to lurch forward and grab him again. Arms in a vice-like grip around his waist, Sirius tried vainly to pull Remus away, but as soon as he did so Remus countered Sirius’ weight with his own.

‘Remus Lupin,’ Greyback taunted softly, stepping towards them. ‘Remus Lupin …’

Remus fought with such determination, such force, that Sirius doubted how much longer he could hold him. Desperately, he wondered where the Aurors were, silently pleading with them for help.

‘Remus Lupin is _dead_ ,’ Remus yelled fiercely as he struggled, prying at Sirius’ grip. ‘You, you killed him!’

The arrogance in Greyback’s casual, unhurried demeanour, the twisted timbre of his laugh, the hideous pride that showed on his sallow face at being recognised by Remus - all of it, everything about him sickened Sirius right to the pit of his stomach. ‘No, no sense to be killing them younger ones. It’s the kids you want to be turning, see ...’

‘Remus, _please_.’

‘That way,’ Greyback continued, slowly pulling out his wand, ‘you can grow ‘em up good and proper - teach ‘em to be savage like they ought to be.’

‘Damn it, _Remus_!’

‘Only your folks didn’t throw you out, did they, Remus Lupin?’ Greyback smiled again, baring his sharp teeth. ‘But we can fix all of that with one - little - _Imperio_!’

The curse hit Remus, there was no doubting that, but nothing seemed to change. He struggled as strongly as ever, putting all his weight into breaking free, thrashing ferociously in Sirius’ arms.

Frighteningly, Sirius could feel Remus beginning to overpower him. He lost his grip momentarily and Remus didn’t hesitate in taking advantage, finally wrenching himself away, and before Sirius could even think to grab him again, Remus spun on the spot and punched him hard in the face.

The pain was merciless, seeming to split his mind in two, blurring his vision. Stunned and bewildered, he staggered and lost his balance, falling, unsure if the vague shapes moving in around them were real or imagined.


	4. Chapter 4

Never in his life had Sirius' eyelids felt so heavy. It was a strain, but he forced them open and for a moment all he saw was white as the unnaturally bright sky left him blinded.

'Welcome back.'

The pain hit Sirius next, a deep ache as heavy as lead pounding against his skull, doubling with every beat of his heart. He groaned.

'Honestly, I turn my back for one minute, and look what happens. So ... how do you feel?'

That was James' voice, Sirius realised, but all comprehension ended there. He was disoriented, the world spinning past his swimming eyes, refusing to come into focus.

'I hope you know how lucky you are, the both of you. Scared me half to death when the Aurors flew past. Peter and I run outside to see and here's you sprawled on the ground, covered in blood. I couldn’t for the life of me work out what had happened until I saw them taking down that ... that fucking filthy piece of degenerate _scum_.

'You couldn't blame him, but I thought he'd gone mental, Remus. I don't think he's cried once the whole time we've known him, but the moment they lifted the curse, he went abs—'

 _Remus!_

Panic-stricken, Sirius sat bolt upright, fighting with the blankets that were holding him down and keeping him from getting back to Remus. Then, so too was James.

'Calm down, Sirius,' James said, his hands on Sirius' shoulders pushing him to the bed. 'It's over. You're in the hospital wing.'

'But Remus!'

'He’s in the dormitory, he's fine.'

Sirius' eyes darted between James'. 'The dormitory?'

'You've been unconscious,' James said. 'Remus was here for a while, with Dumbledore and a couple of the Aurors, but they let him go about half an hour ago. He's probably sleeping it all off as we speak.'

Taking in his surroundings, Sirius saw that he was, as James had said, in the hospital wing. With relief and a strange sense of disappointment, he collapsed back onto the bed.

'And Greyback?'

James shrugged. 'At the Ministry, I suppose. The Aurors took him.'

'Good.' Sirius sighed heavily, rubbing his face in his hands. 'What the fuck happened?'

'Well, you got a concussion from the fall, which is why you've been out of it for so long, and he broke your nose, Remus did. You should see yourself.'

'What?!' Sirius couldn’t help feeling his face to survey the damage. 'Why?'

'Oh, don't worry,' James said, and the bastard actually looked amused by Sirius' panic. 'You still look like you're embarrassingly _pretty_ old self.'

'Oh, piss off.'

'They fixed you up good as new, but you’ve got an impressive set of black eyes. Real shiners.' James grinned. 'I’m a bit jealous, actually.'

Sirius appreciated the effort, but his thoughts were elsewhere. 'What happened after? I mean, how is Remus? Nothing happened to him, right?'

'Well, your face dislocated two of his fingers and split his knuckles open.' James' smile wavered quickly. 'Other than that, he's fine. He had to recount the whole thing for the Aurors, but he hasn’t said much since.'

Sirius sat up in the bed. 'The Aurors were still around?'

'Broke ranks to stick around as a favour to Dumbledore. Guess they're pretty loyal to him.'

Sirius nodded. 'And Remus, is he ... is he alright?'

It took some moments of solemn thought before James answered simply, 'He will be.'

'Pomfrey about?'

'No, but it doesn't matter anyhow,' James said. 'She said you were free to go as soon as you woke up.'

Sirius didn't waste a moment, but as soon as he threw off the covers and climbed out of the bed, he realised all he had on were his trousers and socks. He cast a searching glance around the room.

'Where are my clothes?'

'Oh, here.' James reached to the floor. 'Well, your shoes, anyway. Everything else was covered in blood. The house elves took them for cleaning.'

The news didn't bother Sirius; he simply put his shoes on and left. Walking back to Gryffindor tower, they certainly got a few stares, what with Sirius being black-eyed and shirtless, not to mention the bruises already forming on his forearms where Remus' fingers had dug in. No one said a word, however. They might have simply assumed he’d been in a fight, if it wasn't for the betraying look in their eyes.

Either way, Sirius wasn't paying them any mind at all.

He and James arrived in their dormitory to find Remus, as James had guessed, fast asleep. His hair was in his eyes and he was fully dressed atop the covers, but he looked decidedly peaceful, Sirius thought as he found some clean clothes in his trunk and pulled them on.

Sitting on his own bed, Sirius watched Remus, ruminating over the afternoon's turn of events. _It's not fair_ , he thought. _How is it that the worst things always happen to the best people?_

He could imagine James' response: "It could have been worse," and, "He’s lucky you were there." It wasn't true. If Sirius hadn't been there, Remus would have stayed in Honeydukes and not wandered so directly into danger.

Of course, he remembered what for.

James stepped close enough to briefly lay a hand on Sirius' shoulder.

'Come on,' he said, his expression sober. 'Let Remus sleep.'

#

Not a single one of Remus' transformations had ever managed to leave him looking so drained as he did when he finally emerged later that evening. Devoid of colour and with shadows beneath his eyes, the nap didn't seem to have done him any good. It wasn't this that tugged at Sirius' guilt, however. It was the dejected look on his face, the defeated slump to his shoulders, the way he kept his arms crossed over himself.

Dinner was a mostly silent affair. Remus didn't want to talk, the rest of them didn't know what to say, and so they stared at their plates, fiddled with their cutlery and chewed the tasteless food like it was a chore.

Sirius' thoughts were monopolised - his most foolish, regrettable kiss replaying over and over in cruel, relentless mockery. He'd done a lot of stupid things in his time, but this, he thought, was definitely the worst. It was a peculiar thing, in hindsight, and yet it escaped his focus somewhat; it had been some crazed impostor, surely, and not he himself who had done this.

Beneath the denial, however, one small thing, an abstraction of the truth perhaps, bothered him ceaselessly: that kiss had not come from nowhere, and he knew it.

In the week that followed, Remus' silence became resolute, but only as far as it was directed at Sirius. Everyone else was spared his stony ire, and rightly so, but it made Sirius feel as conspicuous as though he were standing under a spotlight in a dark room. James and Peter came to the conclusion that, for some reason, Remus blamed Sirius for what had happened with Fenrir, and he might have been glad for their confidence in the theory if it weren't for the questions that accompanied it.

'I don't see what his problem is,' Peter said one particular evening as they lounged in the Gryffindor common-room. 'You might as well say you saved his life.'

Sirius didn't particularly agree with that assessment, but didn't get the chance to argue.

'Wormtail.' James pointed over their shoulders.

Remus stood there, jaw clenched, his narrowed eyes dark and accusing. He'd been right behind them, passing on his way to the dorm, not doubt, and so he’d overheard. His body language said it all as he turned his back on them and strode over to the staircase.

'You idiot,' Sirius said to Peter. He jogged after Remus and chased him up the stairs, struggling to catch up.

'Hey!'

Remus didn't answer him, but pushed through their dormitory door so violently it bounced back at Sirius as he, too, entered. In the middle of the room, with nowhere left to go, Remus finally faced him.

'Ignore Peter,' Sirius said. 'He's—'

'Is that what you think?' Remus spoke over the top of him. 'That you saved me?'

' _No_.'

'I'm not surprised you’ve been playing up your heroics,' Remus said, and the scorn in his voice, the utter contempt in his expression, made Sirius feel two feet tall. 'But why don't you try telling him what really happened? Why don't you tell him how you _humiliated_ me?'

The floor fell from beneath Sirius' feet, taking his insides with it. He clutched the nearest bedpost.

'Is that what I did?'

He got no answer. He'd have asked again, only Remus stared him down so hard the question died before the thought of it was even fully formed.

'Get away from me.'

Sirius did, turning his back on Remus' anger and leaving as he'd come, but he didn't return to his seat beside James in the common-room. Instead, he kept walking, not losing pace until he was outside and amidst the greenhouses. Here, he slumped against the cold glass and sank to the ground.

If Remus had asked him why he'd done it, he would not have had an answer. Now it was too late. It was done, and he could never take it back.


	5. Chapter 5

The clock in the seventh-year Gryffindor boys' dormitory had not been so lucky as to live beyond their fifth year, but were it still with them, Sirius was sure it would confirm his suspicions that it must be nearing seven-thirty. At least, and that was if time hadn't stopped completely, which he was beginning to suspect it may have.

'How long does it take, anyway?'

James was currently completing what Sirius guessed was somewhere around his hundred and fifth lap of the room. The incessant pacing was beginning to make Sirius twitch.

'Dunno,' Peter said, looking up from where he was, lying on his bed and flicking through one of Remus' books.

Sirius, sitting at the end of his own bed, tried not to let the air of impatience get to him, but it was difficult. Remus had been gone for ages, and they all were dying to hear what he'd have to say on his return from Dumbledore's office. James was so sure Greyback would be sent straight to Azkaban, but after what Remus had said during the Christmas holidays, Sirius had a bad feeling.

Sick of waiting, he went to his trunk and fished out his pyjamas, intending to head to the bathroom for a shower. It was then that Remus returned.

'So,' James started.

'I don't want to talk about it,' Remus said, tone firm, as he walked past James, sat heavily on his bed and began to remove his shoes.

'Oh, come on.' James held his hands out in a show of peace. 'At least tell us the important stuff.'

He got no response.

'Greyback?'

Remus sighed, though he didn't look at James. 'Azkaban.'

'Ha! I told you.'

'It was nothing to do with me.'

'Are you kidding?! Remus, if—'

'No. The _only_ reason is because ... –' Remus struggled to compose himself '– because to the Ministry he's a dark creature with connections to Voldemort, nothing more. So yes, he's in Azkaban, for now, and as far as anyone is concerned I was just the bait, never mind the Unforgivable. But I don't want to talk about it, like I said. I'm going for a shower.'

Remus snatched up his things and made for the door only to stop when he came face to face with Sirius.

'I was just heading there,' Sirius said.

Remus' posture visibly tensed. 'Right,' he said, and passed Sirius without another glance.

* * *

Sirius readied himself slowly, taking the time to think as he listened to all the small sounds Remus made as he undressed and stepped beneath the spray of the shower. Removing his clothes, he concentrated on the sound of the water as it coursed over Remus' body, then heavy on the tiles and away down the drain.

Then, naked and with his hands on the taps, Sirius closed his eyes, took a deep breath and twisted them. The water that hit him first was far more shockingly cold than he expected, but he stayed beneath the flow, enduring the teeth-chattering chill and trying to banish from his mind the thought of what Remus must look like now and only three stalls away.

He couldn't. As the water warmed, so did he, and though he felt traitorous, he liked the feel of his hands on his body as he held Remus in his mind.

He couldn't bring himself to do it while Remus was essentially there with him in the room, and so he listened through the rush of water for the sound of the other shower shutting off, and eventually the click of the door as Remus left. Alone, he pushed the shame to the back of his mind.

* * *

'I'm insane.' James, who was sprawled on his stomach amid a mess of papers on their dormitory floor, was perfectly serious in his declaration. 'Honestly, actually, _completely_ insane. It's the only explanation.'

'It's what I've been saying all these years, isn't it?' Sirius said around a mouthful of custard tart, similarly spread out on his bed, only minus the school work. Instead he was studying the pages of a Muggle motorcycle trading magazine, trying – and mostly failing – not to get the pages sticky.

'Well, you should have told me a bit louder when I decided to do Ancient bloody Runes at N.E.W.T level. Look at this,' James said, and held up a page. 'It's gibberish. The very essence of gobbledygook.'

Sirius laughed. 'Even more so to me, mate. Ask Remus. He's good at that sort of thing, isn't he?'

'Yeah,' James said, and sighed. 'I s'pose it can wait, though. I don't really want to nag him the day before full moon.'

Sirius had to pause and think at that. 'Full moon is tonight?'

'Yeah. It is the twenty-second, isn't it? Wait, Saturday was definitely the eighteenth, so ...' James squinted in concentration as he counted off the days on his fingers. 'Yeah, half one tomorrow morning, or thereabouts.'

Sirius frowned unseeingly at the motorbikes. Perhaps it was ironic, because for the first time he was dreading the full moon – as Remus certainly did each and every month. Remus' anger may have settled, but he still had not forgiven Sirius and the resentment was as strong as it had ever been. Though neither one of them had said anything, Sirius was sure they both knew the risk they'd be running in leaving the tension and hostility unresolved.

Sirius knew the only good thing to do would be to stay behind, but that would require some sort of explanation and there was no way he could bring himself to tell James and Peter the reason he and Remus had barely spoken to each other during the last couple of weeks. He was relieved Remus apparently hadn't been able to either.

However, that was a small consolation as he tried to get some sleep that night, before it came time to head out. Wide awake in the darkness, he considered his options. He could feign sudden illness and stay behind, or he could go and let things play out however they would. Both were bad ideas, and he wasn't too keen on either. Perhaps there was another solution; there was still time, and if he could get to the shack before the moon was full and throw himself at Remus' mercy – beg, plead, be punching bag, anything as long as Remus got it out of his system before he turned – then just maybe it would work.

Careful to be quiet and not wake James or Peter, Sirius climbed out of bed, found his clothes and dressed. Hurriedly, he made his way down the tower, through the portrait hole and the seventh floor corridors and to the grand staircase. Pleading silently with them not to choose this moment to start moving, he descended and by some miracle made it to the ground floor, but any gratefulness at that was short-lived. The moment he rounded the corner he stopped in his tracks at what he saw.

Fair in the middle of the corridor that lead to the entrance hall, a suit of armour was brandishing its sword at the Grey Lady.

'Nay, wench, ye shall not pass,' it bellowed in Peeves' voice, and instantly dropped the sword and pointed at Sirius. 'Aha!'

The Grey Lady quickly made her escape through the ceiling as Peeves rid himself of the armour and let it drop to the floor with an almighty crash. He floated towards Sirius with an expression of utter glee.

'Ooh, lookie, the reject son from the ignoble and most archaic house of Black, out of bed. Very naughty, this one. I should tell, I should.'

'Fuck off, Peeves,' Sirius snapped, attempting to pass as quickly as he could and with as wide a berth as possible.

With a cackle, Peeves flew to the other end of the corridor and swooped down to take the end of the long rug. It was only quick reflexes that saw Sirius leap to the bare flagstones by the wall before his feet were pulled out from under him as Peeves gave the rug a yank. Then even before the clanging of the armour had stopped echoing off the walls, Sirius took off at a run, determined to put the poltergeist and his antics well behind him.

It was as he was crossing the entrance hall, readying his wand to cast the oft practiced spell at the massive oak doors which would allow him to exit the castle, that he heard Peeves' distant yell of "STUDENT OUT OF BED."

Sirius just kept on running.

* * *

The near-full moon illuminated the sky, silhouetting the Whomping Willow and its gently swaying branches. Sirius stared up at its formidable form only briefly. Hurrying still, he cast about for a fallen branch, something long enough that he could try to reach the knot at the base of the trunk, but there was nothing or else it was too dark for him to see.

Moving into the relative shade of the tree, he knew there was nothing else for it. He crouched down, lit his wand with a quick _"lumos!"_ , and cast the spell that turned him to the dog that was his Animagus, instantly feeling more alert and aware of his surroundings. Having to carry his wand in his mouth was a minor inconvenience, and he didn't think twice of it, but now, of course, came the problem of getting past the willow.

He launched himself into a run before he could give it too much thought, and instantly felt the change as the tree moved into action. He was fast, and it was such a short distance that as he neared the base of the trunk it seemed he'd make it before any of the branches came down on him. At the last moment he felt a sharp pain cut across his back, but he wasn't hit and he could still run, and the next moment he was sliding down the dirt at the mouth of the tunnel.

It was dark inside and difficult to see even with the charm but he kept up his pace until he neared the other end, stopping beneath the exposed wood of the shack's floorboards and support beams. He didn't pause to catch his breath when he changed back to his human form, but pulled himself through the trapdoor and made his way upstairs.

He noticed Remus on the bed, curled up beneath his cloak, the moment he entered the bedroom. The floor groaned and squeaked as Sirius walked across it, and if Remus was asleep it couldn't have been soundly, as he sat up at the noise and frowned in Sirius' direction.

'Is it time?' Remus said, and shifted to the end of the bed. 'Where are the others?'

'Probably still back at the castle.' Sirius avoided looking Remus in the eyes. 'I, uh, I'm a little early.'

Remus rubbed at his face, looking tired and pained.

'I wanted to talk to you,' Sirius ventured quietly.

'Oh yeah?' Remus crossed his arms. Eyes narrowed, he said, 'I remember the last time you said something like that to me.'

Feeling his nerve begin to crumble, Sirius took a steadying breath. 'Yeah, about that.'

When Sirius didn't go on, Remus raised his eyebrows. 'Well?'

It took all of Sirius' resolve to swallow his pride, open his mouth and say, 'I'm sorry.'

Remus' response came quickly. 'Are you? I don't believe you.'

'You don't have to believe me, but I am.' Sirius slumped against the wall, ignoring the sting it caused him. 'I'm sorry I kissed you. I'm sorry you hated it so much.'

'You had no right,' Remus said coldly, and Sirius braced himself for a verbal lashing, but it never came.

Feeling utterly crap and still right where he'd began, Sirius sat down on the dusty floor, back against the wall, and stared at the tattered bed covers. By silent mutual agreement they didn't speak or acknowledge each other as they waited for their friends and for the moon.

Sirius' first clue that it was getting close was when Remus began cracking his knuckles, and yet James and Peter still hadn't shown. Next he started scratching the back of his hands and his forearms as the hair there began the first minute changes, and Sirius knew from what Remus had told him in the past that this meant it was only minutes away. He stood when Remus did.

The cloak came off first, of course, then shoes and socks. All of this Remus tossed on the floor. Next, he pulled off his jumper and shirt in kind and threw them both on the bed behind him. He got so far as to undo the button on his trousers when he caught the look on Sirius' face.

'No point ruining perfectly good clothes,' he said in a strained voice and laughed entirely without humour, and before Sirius could even think of an appropriate response, Remus pushed both trousers and underwear to the floor and stepped out of them.

'Do you always ...' Sirius said, but found he couldn't finish the question.

'Yes,' Remus answered matter-of-factly. 'Like I said.'

Though he tried resist, Sirius couldn't help taking in the full view of Remus' naked body, even though he knew perfectly well Remus was watching him do it.

Remus clenched his fists, breathing deeply through his nose. The yellow that quickly became his eyes was shocking, even despite the knowledge of what was to come, but Remus closed them even as the colour deepened. He stood there, his chest rising visibly with each deep, shaking breath, and slowly he tilted his head back, turning his face to the ceiling.

Sirius watched, struck by the sight of Remus, by the energy coming from him that was so palpable it made Sirius shake. He felt as though he'd been punched in the stomach and hadn't yet caught his breath, immobilised by a weight that had settled over his chest, and as Remus' eyes cracked open, as the pain flickered across his face, that weight shifted and sharpened and tightened its grip around Sirius' heart.


End file.
